


Influence

by holdinglines



Category: Voltage Inc - Fandom, 今宵妖しい口づけを | Enchanted in the Moonlight (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, Goodbyes, Nonbinary Protagonist, Platonic Relationships, Storms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 03:58:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19054783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdinglines/pseuds/holdinglines
Summary: Leaving home has never been so hard.





	Influence

 

 Shiori sat on their suitcase in a vain attempt to close it as the latches groaned in protest.  Another tremor went through the house and one of their father’s bookcases toppled to the ground..  Shiori gritted their teeth and tried again to get the latches closed. They gave a satisfied sigh when they finally heard a * _ click _ *.

 The guys had taken everything else to the village earlier, but this suitcase was special.  None of them had been allowed in her parent’s study or their old room, and Shiori had decided to go through their old things themself.  It had been harder than they expected, more bittersweet than they would’ve liked.

_ Wish I wasn’t moving as a storm was coming. _

__ They heard the door open and they looked up to see Samon there.  He looked tired, with red rimmed eyes and slumped shoulders, but he still gave them that same heartwarming smile.

 “Are you ready?”

 They stood up and grabbed the suitcase with both hands.  “I think so.”

 “Let’s go.”

 They didn’t talk as they went to the backyard, and Shiori could already see Hikobei’s pond shimmering as the portal to the mononoke village opened.

 “Ok, let’s go,” Shiori dragged the suitcase behind them and was about to jump in when they noticed Samon hadn’t moved.

 “Samon?  Come on, we gotta go.”

 He looked up at them and struggled to smile.  He shook his head.

 “ _ Samon,  _ come on.  Let’s  _ go _ .”

 “I can’t go, Shiori.”

 They set the suitcase down and walked back over.  “What are you saying? Of course you can go.”

 “I’m a zashiki warashi, an extension of this house and this property,” he said as he folded his arms behind him.  “I literally can’t leave.”

 Shiori looked him up and down in disbelief.  They forced a laugh. “Very funny, Samon. Great joke and all that but…” he didn’t answer and just kept smiling, which just made them angrier.  “Of course you can leave, you leave all the time! You, you go to the supermarket, you walk me to work sometimes! Why  _ now _ can’t you leave?”

 “This shrine is a part of this community.  You are a figurehead, and it’s because of  _ your _ influence and your power that I’m able to exist at all.”

 

 Shiori ran their hands through their hair and nearly pulled it out in a panic.  This was too much. It was  _ too much _ .  In the distance, thunder rumbled.

 Somewhere behind the clouds the sun was setting, its rays cast strange shadows over everything.  The coming storm caused the world around them to be a hazy orange. Lightning momentarily blinded Shiori as they desperately grabbed Samon’s hand.

 “I am  _ not _ going to leave you here.  I’m not going to leave you alone as… as….” Shiori tried to swallow the lump forming in their throat.

 Samon had always been there.  He’d been there when Shiori’s grandad died, he’d been there when their parents died, and he’d been there when their grandma slowly forgot them.  Shiori had so many memories of seeing his smiling face there to welcome them home, to make sure they got some sleep or to help them keep the house clean.  There wasn’t anything to compare him to, he was more important than family and the love Shiori felt for him wasn’t like anything else they’d felt.

 He cupped their face, his thumb brushing away tears that had started to fall.  Shiori shook him off and refused to look at him. Samon frowned and gently grabbed the sides of their face and forced them to look meet his gaze.

 “Shiori, look at me.   _ Look at me _ .  You’re going to be okay.  I promise you’re going to be safe.”

 They felt their lip starting to trembled and bit down.  “I don’t wanna go without you.”

 “You have to.  I can’t leave the property, you know this.”

 “But—!

 “Shhh.” He pressed his forehead against theirs and took slow, deep breaths to help calm them.  Finally he whispered, “Shiori, do you know why a house spirit is so different from other magic folk?”

 They shook their head.

 “I’m old, Shiori.  I was born when people first came to this area and looked in wonder at the land.  I’m a thousand lovers making flower crowns, I exist in the imagination of the kids who played pretend in these woods.”   
 “I’m your home.  I remember the first family who lived here.  I’ve watched so many people grow and live and die within my walls.” he began blinking, trying to keep himself from crying.  “I’ve watched you grow up, Shiori. You’re my best friend. You poured so much love into making this your home, it radiates off of everything here.”

 “I’ve lived a good, long life Shiori.  I don’t want you to die when I can save you.”

 Shiori pressed one of his hands to her face and sighed.  It was so easy to forget that he’s not real. But right now she could feel the heat radiating off him.

 The portal continued to shimmer behind them.  Once Shiori went through, they’d be safe from the devastation coming.  Shiori let out another sigh and finally looked Samon in the eyes.

 “Ok?”

 They nodded.

 “Ok.” he relaxed his grip and let his arms fall to his side.  On instinct the two moved towards each other and shared one last hug.  Shiori squeezed her eyes shut.  _ I won’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t make this harder for him than it already is. _  He smelled like fresh laundry and the forest after a summer shower and  _ home _ .

 Finally the pulled away from each other and Shiori headed towards the pond.  His hand was still in theirs, and Shiori could feel his fingers slowly starting to slip away.  They looked back one more time, then they were gone.

 Beneath Samon the earth rumbled and the sky screamed.  The wind whipped around him and pulled at his clothes, but he refused to move until the shimmering light from the pond finally dulled.  The last connection to the village was closed, and Shiori was safe. 

 He spun on his heel and went back home.  Papers flew and flapped on the veranda, and as he crouched to pick them up he realized it was the ayakashi paper.

_ Chikage must’ve left it here. _

 It was strange not seeing the tengu out here, or hearing little Koten’s voice while he trained.

 Inside, he walked the halls, his soft footsteps seemingly echoing in the empty house.  The living room was empty, all the plates neatly stacked in the center of the table.

_ We’ll never eat together again. _

 He made himself a kettle of tea, walked back to the living room, and waited for the storm to come.


End file.
